


the Masks we wear Forever

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [11]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Kayfabe Compliant, Kevin is really bad at communication, M/M, Mind Games, Possessive Behavior, Swearing, aggressive affection, as usual, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, stealth angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:56:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7586071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The continuing adventures of baby!Steen, who is on a quest to ruin everyone's day and steal everyone's belongings out of petty jealousy.</p><p>Luckily, the sunlight to his moonglow is back, so he should calm down right?</p><p>Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	the Masks we wear Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> Man, have I mentioned how awful baby!Steen can be? Because he can be a really awful person at times. I know I'm preaching to the choir here, cause everyone reading this knows his deal, but goddamn. He is just the WORST sometimes.
> 
> Most of the time.
> 
> I am so going to have a bad time as this series goes on *whine*
> 
> Whatever. Feast on this delicious angst and enjoy!

“Did you look in the car?”

“Yes.”

“Did you look in your locker?”

“Yep.”

“Did you look in the motel room?”

“Drove all the way back for no reason.”

“Did you check with the guys to see if they’re fucking with you?”

“Threatened to sick you on them if they were.”

Kevin rubs a hand across his bottom lip in thought. “Did you even remember to bring it from home in the first place?”

“Shut up.”

Kevin observes Sami as the other wrestler drapes himself over a nearby bench, watching the slighter man blow out a frustrated breath.

“Okay then, was it stolen?” Kevin asks, crossing his arms and leaning back against the lockers.

“Fuck you Kevin.”

“Ooh, testy. It was either stolen or you forgot to pack at all. Pick one”

Sami groans long and loud, throwing a forearm over his face and muttering into his skin.

It's silent for a moment before Kevin pushes off the lockers, walking over to his bag, shaking his head as he goes.

“Well nothing to do now but soldier on. Buck up buddy, at least you’ll be in good company. No one else was prepared for this show either. Did you hear Dragon screaming about someone stealing his mask?”

Sami makes a low whining noise in the back of his throat that has Kevin closing his eyes, sinking his **fingers** into the contents of his gym bag to ground himself.

“Its not the same! I need my gear Kevin I can’t go out there looking like _this_ -”

Kevin scoffs, pulling his tape out and beginning to wind it around his wrist.

“Yeah? You really think you don’t always look like a scrawny street rat that just blew in out of the gutter? Because you _always_ look like a scrawny street rat who just blew in out of the gutter.”

Kevin doesn’t turn around when he hears the soft gasp. He stares down at his arm, watches his skin slowly disappear under a thick layer of athletic tape. Kevin ignores the loud sniffling noise, smoothing down the edges with his thumb as he swiftly winds tape up his wrist.

Kevin tries to ignore the sharp intake of breath and the quiet whine. However, the soft noise is swiftly followed by a choked off sob and Kevin’s fingers falter at the sound, the tape getting stuck to itself as Kevin loses his grip briefly.

Kevin stares at the fucked up tape for a minute - _just **turn around** and_ \- before closing his eyes and shaking his head in aggravation. Rolling his neck, he can’t help but cast his eyes skyward.

If there was ever any doubt that the universe hated one Kevin Steen, this was the moment that cemented his name on all shit-lists across the cosmos.

- _for fucks sake, make it **better**_ -

Turning, Kevin raises his forearm and sinks his teeth into the tape as he moves. Pulling off the screwed up part along with the rest of the roll he strides toward the bench Sami is still sprawled on.

“I’d offer you a singlet but you’d look worse than you normally do.” Kevin states, looming over Sami’s slumped form.

Sami says nothing, forearm still firmly over his face.

Kevin bites his bottom lip, aggravation welling up in the back of his throat, making it hard to breath.

“Sulking doesn’t actually solve the damn problem you know.”

Sami lets out a watery sounding laugh that holds little humor, “That’s rich coming from you of all people.”

Kevin throws a hand up in exasperation, “Yeah and you’re supposed to be the bigger man. You always see the world as half full because you are a dumb, trusting idiot. Get your shit together and lets go out there and kill it.”

Sami takes his forearm away briefly to give Kevin a wounded look before covering his eyes again.

Kevin sighs into the quiet that follows, watching the trails of water run down Sami cheeks.

- _ **brilliant** strategy. would you like to try again and not **suck** this time?_ -

Slapping the tape down on the worn bench, Kevin crouches, ignoring the way his knees complain. Reaching over, he presses a hand to Sami abdomen, almost jerking his hand away when the muscles _flex_ under his touch.

Pulling in a sharp breath, Kevin tugs the bottom of his t-shirt down and focuses on the task at hand as best he can.

“Listen, I get that you’re upset or whatever- well, okay no I don’t, I think you are way over reacting. But! I need you to chill the fuck out okay? We can’t stop the show because you forgot to pack your gear. The world can’t stop just for you.”

Sami lets out a growl that makes something twist **viciously** in Kevin’s gut.

- _you know what would help him right now_ -(NO)

“I’m not asking the world to stop Kevin! I just- you don’t understand because you’re so fucking-” Sami gestures vaguely with the arm not covering his face “- perfect just the way you are. Kevin Steen needs no person or mask or move. You’re just **flawless** right out of the gate.”

Kevin sinks his hand probably a little too hard into the **soft flesh** of Sami’s stomach, trying to think of a witty retort that won’t make him sound like an insecure dumb ass.

“Pretty sure there are about fifty promoters and as many wrestlers who would disagree, Sami.”

- _yep. way to show how not bothered by them you are. by whining about how bothered by them you are_ -

Kevin coughs, looking at the floor briefly before Sami shifting causes him to snap his head back up.

Sami takes his arm away and opens reddened lips, Kevin internally groaning as he registers the rant in Sami’s eyes.

Before Sami can start shrieking about how everyone in the world is wrong about Kevin being a fat, lazy, failure of a wrestler, Kevin plants a hand on the slighter man’s thigh. Sami rears back slightly, color rising to his cheeks.

- _ooh hey we could always_ -(no.)

Sami’s muscles jumping under his hand makes Kevin want to press down even harder. He gives into the **urge** , hand sinking into the soft, vulnerable skin of Sami’s stomach, the way the flesh _gives_ making Kevin lightheaded.

- _good, yes, lets_ -(stop)

Licking his lips, Kevin tilts his head so he doesn’t have to look at Sami directly.

“Listen, stop changing the subject,” Kevin ignores the incredulous look he gets at that. “This is not about me and my cookie addiction. This about you and your dependence on stupid shit like masks and those ugly ass tights and your lucky socks or whatever-”

“Lucky _panda bear_ socks.” Sami mutters, staring at the hand on his thigh like Kevin is **burning** him.

As if _Kevin_ is the one of them that is **light personified**.

“Right whatever.” Kevin says, trying to be patient. Squeezing Sami’s thigh and leaning closer, he carries on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “You are a decent wrestler. You don’t need any of that shit. You just need to go out there and do your thing. Even if you fuck up I’ll be right there to make up for it. I’m amazing enough for the two of us.”

Sami’s abdominal muscles spasm under his hand so suddenly Kevin flexes his fingers against the skin before he realizes what he is doing. The thigh under Kevin’s other hand twitches, pushing into Kevin’s touch then jerking away like Sami was-

Kevin's breath hitches as trembling fingers brush his chin. Kevin tears his eyes away from where Sami's leg is now pressed tightly to the bench - _and away from us **make** him come **back**_ -(No) and focuses on Sami's face as the slighter man struggles into a sitting position, his hand never straying far from Kevin’s face as he goes.

Before Kevin can ask Sami what the hell he thinks he is doing-

- _the fuck do you think dumbass? the kids’ got bigger balls than you, so just **take**_ -

-and before Kevin cam move away - _no goddamnit, **take**_ -( _can’t_ ) Sami slides forward, his gangly legs slipping around Kevin’s sides as the slighter wrestler shifts forward and wraps skinny arms around broad shoulders.

Kevin tries to rear back, takes his hands off of Sami and shifts, but Sami leans right into his space, pulling them flush together as much as they can be given how their sitting. Kevin stays that way for a moment, frozen with his hands up like Sami was a close friends’ girlfriend he shouldn’t be touching.

-f _ucking hell anyone else would put their hands on **mine**_ -

Kevin brings his arms up, wrapping Sami up in a tight embrace, insides twisting painfully as he buries his face in the pale clammy skin at Sami’s neck, getting lost in the steady rhythm of his pulse. Sami snuggles closer, his lanky legs closing around Kevin’s frame, ankles locking together against Kevin’s back.

Kevin draws in a sharp breath, lifting his head to watch his thumb trail up and down Sami’s spine. Sami makes a low keening sound when Kevin’s hand pauses at the dip above the other wrestlers ass, then ascends Sami’s back again, this time digging into the skin a little too hard and leaving a **red stripe** all the way up **Sami’s back**.

Kevin runs three fingers down along the **mark** he just left, listening to Sami’s gentle exhale at the motion.

- _wonder how he would sound if we painted his back **black** and **blue** again_ -(no.)

Fuck.

“Better?” Kevin ignores how hoarse he sounds, deliberately removing his hands from Sami’s back and curling fists against the bench on either side of the other wrestler.

Sami leans back, not yet taking his hands off Kevin, leaving his now steadier hands on broad shoulders. “A bit yeah. Sorry about that. I don't know what my problem is today. Everything just feels really-” Sami stares down at his lap, voice soft.

"- _intense_ , you know? Anyway, I'm sorry for freaking out like that." 

Kevin bites his lip, pressing his fists resolutely into the hardwood as clumsy fingers leave his shoulders to wipe at the wetness on tear stained cheeks.

“It's fine. But you’re good now? Ready to go out there and show those assholes who’s boss?”

Sami still looks uncertain and anxious, but he gives a slight nod, looking at Kevin with big, scared eyes.

“Good enough.” Kevin mutters, pulling himself away from Sami and standing, dusting of his shorts and shaking the blood back into his legs.

Sami reaches forward as if to pull him back down but Kevin leans away, chewing on his bottom lip.

“You gonna go out their in that?” Kevin asks, gesturing to Sami’s tank top and lose shorts.

Sami lets his out stretched hands fall to the bench, looking down at himself, “Uh, I guess? I mean, the tank top isn’t ideal but the shorts are fine-ish right?”

- _aw he wants approval_ -

Sami stares at him, pleading and Kevin debates for a minute, letting Sami stew in uncertainty. Kevin flexed his fingers, letting the silence linger uncomfortably as he watches the muscles in his hands coil and constrict.

- _got something better you could be doing with your hands_ -

Kevin looks up abruptly ( **enough** )- _ **never** enough_ -( _ **shutthefuckupalready**_ ) dropping his hands and turning his head to stare at Sami.

A slightly less tense silence hangs over the room briefly as Kevin ponders the skinny idiot in front of him, Sami perking up under the inspection. Kevin watches impassively as Sami puffs his scrawny chest out and squares his jaw, clearly trying to look impressive, eyes alight as he waits eagerly for Kevin’s verdict.

Kevin snorts derisively, walking back to his bag and rummaging around. Finding what he wants he walks back over to his anxious tag partner, throwing a shirt in his lap.

“Wear that. It's the first of that new merch I conned that idiot in Philly to make."

Sami blinks up at him, cheeks coloring. “Oh, uh, thanks.” He picks the shirt up, cocking his head, “Why do you have shirts in my size...?”

- _two guesses. god he is **dumb** sometimes_ -

Kevin snatches his tape off the bench and raises an eyebrow at Sami, “Its not my fault you’re the same size as all my smark fans. Skinny _losers_ the lotta ‘ya.”

Sami _beams_ up at him so suddenly Kevin almost drops the tape in his hands.

“Cool, then I can advertise for you! Hey, this won’t be so bad after all.”

Kevin turns swiftly away as Sami strips off his tank top, focusing on wrapping tape around his wrist and studiously ignoring the happy, off tune humming behind him.

Securing the edges of the last layer of tape with a forefinger, Kevin calls over his shoulder, unwilling to turn around and get **blasted** with either a smile brighter than the sun or go snow-blind from Sami’s pale skin.

“We can pretend your Generico’s cousin or something. His pasty, ginger, Canadian cousin.”

Kevin isn’t prepared for the weight that crashes into his back, causing him to stagger unsteadily forward, dropping the tape with a grunt.

Sami snuggles close, chin tucked over Kevin’s shoulders, **rubbing** his _cheek_ against Kevin’s like an overly affectionate cat.

“Aw, I wanted to be your cousin. Can’t I-”

“No.” Kevin snaps, the idea of them being _blood related_ giving him the creeps for some inexplicable reason.

- _not that fucked up huh? I dunno, it’s probably a good thing you two **aren't** related because_ -

“I refuse to parade around claiming you are in any way my kin. Fuck that. I don’t care who you are pretending to be, we are not going to be blood related. That is so fucking gross and I- I wouldn’t claim you of all people as a relative.” Kevin bites out, resisting the **strong urge** to **slam** himself backwards into a wall.

Sami seems to deflate slightly and Kevin internally groans.

- _fuck, shut him off at the pass. if I have to listen to him bitch and moan about his goddamn lucky socks again I'm gonna_ -

“Hey at least you won’t have to do the stupid Spanish accent tonight.” Kevin says, leaning down to adjust his knee pads.

Sami thumps Kevin on the shoulder lightly, “Hey! My Spanish is impeccable!”

Kevin snorts derisively. “You know like three words. Your Spanish is shit.”

Sami makes an indignant sound as he clings to Kevin's back as the heavier wrestler doubles over to fiddle with his boots, Kevin ignoring the way Sami sways dangerously from his perch.

“Shut up! No one even notices alright? They love me.”

“They don’t notice because they are too drunk most of the time, Sami.” Kevin says dryly, double checking that everything is secure. He ponders leaving it at that, but Kevin has never been good at leaving things alone.

“They don’t love you either. They don’t even know you. They love El Generico because that is all you ever let them see.” Kevin says, not sure why he said it as softly as he did. Not like there was anyone in here to hear this conversation besides them.

Not like Kevin would care if anyone else heard.

Sami curls closer, wrapping skinny arms around Kevin’s throat until he’s almost choking him and Kevin doesn’t need to look at the man to know that there is fear in his eyes.

“I know that. It’s just- they aren't - **I can't** -” Sami buries his face in Kevin’s shoulder, body trembling so hard Kevin suspected that he was crying again.

- _you’re a real damn casanova tonight champ. you wanna make the kid cry about forty more times? are you going for some sort of record here or_ -

“You could Sami. You choose not to because you are a chicken shit.” Kevin muttered, picking at the stiff material of his knee pads, wondering why he was even having this discussion with Sami. It’s not like it mattered what face Sami turned to the the world.

“What if they don’t like me though?” Sami whined into Kevin’s shoulder, rubbing his forehead against Kevin’s skin and tightening his grip in his anxiety, “What if they look at me and decide that I’m not good enough? I don’t think I’m good enough. They can’t know who I am if I _can’t_ -”

“I know who you are.”

Sami stops babbling and loosens his grip on Kevin until Kevin hears a startled gasp and feels Sami’s weight fall from his back. Resisting the urge to turn around, Kevin stoops to pick up the tape from the floor, shoving it in his bag as he listens intently to the silence between them.

“Well- I mean- I know **that** but-” Sami stares up at Kevin from the floor, sprawled on the concrete and looking utterly _lost_.

Kevin huffs, rolling his neck and contemplating the ceiling. Tugging the hem of his shirt down he turns to the confused wrestler, crossing his arms and leaning up against the wall.

Watching the light overhead flicker, the bulb littered with burnt insects form years past, Kevin chews on his bottom lip in thought.

“Listen, I’m not saying that you need to walk around out there naked or anything-”

- _that is the **best** idea you have had **all night**_ -

“- **but** you don’t give yourself enough credit. You are not complete garbage all the time, which is more than most of these assholes can claim. Own it.”

Sami opens his mouth but Kevin holds up a hand to stave him off.

“I’m not done.” Kevin waits until Sami closes his lips and leans back, watching Kevin, eyes bright with intense ... **something**.

Kevin puts his hand down and runs fingers along the tape across his wrist until the words claw their way out of his mouth, refusing to be **denied**.

“I’m not saying stop with the weird luchadore thing. Everyone loves that and it makes you more comfortable to have something to hide behind, so why fix what isn’t broken? All I’m saying is that-” Kevin licks his lips, trying to put the feeling into words and getting slightly frustrated when the words he needs don't come.

Why was saying this so _hard_?

Kevin was a goddamn _master word smith_. He could choke out a few paltry half compliments to make Sami **shut the fuck**   **up** and let them get on with the show. It was not that big of a _deal_.

“All I am trying to say is that I know **you**. Maybe the _crowd_ doesn’t, maybe your little wrestling _‘friends’_ don’t, maybe _everyone_ in whatever locker room we are in at any given time don’t. None of that **matters**. **They** don’t matter. **I know you**. I’ve always known **you**.” Kevin watches Sami swallow and rub clammy hands against his shorts, Sami’s breath coming fast and shallow as he stares rapturously at Kevin, as if entranced by his words.

“I always will.” added Kevin, pulling his hand away from the tape at his wrist and running it through his damp hair, something  **unpleasant** twisting in his gut.

- _ **forever**. even when, **someday** long into the future, you won't **want me** to anymore_ -

“Okay.”

Kevin blinked, looking at Sami in bewilderment.

“Okay?” Kevin asked incredulously.

“Yeah.”

Kevin stares at him, speechless for a long moment. Sami stares back, something like determination now mixed with the fear and uncertainty.

Kevin threw up his hands, “Oh for fucks sake. I make this long ass, touchy-feelie speech just for your benefit and all you can muster up after I’ve humiliated myself is ‘okay’.”

Kevin grabs Sami by the shirt collar and hauls him up off the floor, giving him a vigorous shake-

- _that is **your shirt** genius_ -

“Next time I won’t bother you goddamn piece of-”

Kevin’s whole train of thought is cut off when Sami presses full, soft, hesitant lips to Kevin’s.

A long moment of paralyzed silence descends over the room as Kevin feels a million different pulls in a million different directions, even his more loud instincts so thrown off he can’t make heads or tails of what they are trying to convey.

He knows what his body - **wants-** but his _brain_ is no help at all.

Before Kevin can even begin to pull his thoughts into any kind of order, the moment (was it an hour? a _day_? a **lifetime**? how _long_ had they been **standing** in this _room_? _**what was** **the name of this city again?**_ ) passes and Sami pulls back, cheeks a resplendent shade of red and eyes alight with that - _something_ \- that always makes Kevin want to - _ **take**_ -

“Thank you, Kevin.” Sami murmurs, _fingers_ trailing along Kevin’s **cheeks** for a brief moment (why did Kevin’s cheeks feel so **damp**? it wasn’t that **hot** in here, why was he sweating so much?) before letting his hands fall away, a somewhat sheepish look creeping into his eyes as the silence stretches on.

Kevin - _ **needed**_ \- to be able to _breath_ again. **Now**.

Kevin abruptly lets Sami go, stepping back out of reach and watching impassively as the other man flails desperately, falling back on the hard concrete with a loud grunt.

“Yeah, well. You’re welcome or whatever. Just don’t make me have to do that again yeah? You are the one of us who is good at pep talks, not me. I expect you to be back on your game next time.” Kevin snaps, sniffing loudly and turning back to his bag, rustling around just to give himself something to do as he impatiently waits for his brain to reboot.

“Ah! _Of course_ , yeah, sorry about that. I’ll be better tomorrow. Today is just-” Kevin doesn’t turn around but he can hear Sami **swallow loudly**. Kevin can picture his **adam’s apple** bobbing with the motion, can feel  **Sami’s eyes** burning a hole into his back and the way Sami's  _legs_ are probably-

(nopenopenopenope)

“-off, I guess.” Kevin listens to Sami get up, the other wrestler moving slowly like his motor skills were as fucked as Kevin’s brain- not that Sami didn’t always have the grace of a newborn cow.

“Anyway, like you said, none of that matters!” Sami declared brightly, having apparently recovered his **sunny disposition** already. “We’re gonna go out there and be amazing!”

Kevin feels a **pinprick** of pressure in his back and turns, raising an eyebrow at the _finger_ Sami just _poked_ him with. The other wrestler **beams brightly** at him.

“ _You_ should give yourself more credit too! Your pep talks are really good!” Sami says emphatically, **poking** Kevin in the _chest_ this time.

Kevin resolutely resists the **strong urge** to lean down and _snap_ that **finger** up in his _jaws_.

Just take **Sami’s flesh** and _**sink his teeth into him until**_ -

“It’s just the truth.” Kevin blurted, tearing his eyes away from where the **bright light** of all that was _good_ in the world was **_touching_ _him_**.

(how is all of Kevin not _burned_ away whenever **those hands** come into contact with such _**abysmal darkness?**_ )

(how is all of Sami not **swallowed whole** by the **blackest of nights**?)

“All I did was speak the truth. All you have to do is remember it and not make me repeat myself.”

Kevin pushes Sami’s hand down and moves away, muttering as he goes, “Just don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Sami laughs, **light** and _easy_ , like he isn’t being _**eaten alive**_ by **thoughts** and - _desires_ \- and - _ **need**_ \- and Kevin kind of hates him for a brief moment.

Hates Sami for his ability to be so _carefree_ all the time.

Hates Sami for being _ **Sami**_.

 **Hates** Sami for a **lot** of things, actually.

“Don’t worry Kevin.” Sami says, clasping his hands behind his back and skipping toward Kevin, the **brightest** of **smiles** on his soft face.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Man, the levels of narrative that are going on in this series is really deep and crazy and hard to keep track of. I'm used to stories getting out of hand, but this is pretty extreme, even for me. Like, there were at least three character studies going on at once at the end there and that's not even including what was going on in Sami's head at the time. Goddamn, these two I swear they will be the death of me.
> 
> Sorry if Kevin's little freak out there at the end was hard to read. He was having a massive meltdown and trying not to do various pleasant and very unpleasant things to a certain radiant moron, so I was having a hard time reining in his contradictory swings from dismissive spoken dialogue to inner freakout-while-pretending-he's-not-freaking-out. WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE SO COMPLICATED?!
> 
> *breath* Well I feel better. Hope you liked it!


End file.
